


Form 319-A: Why one should never anger a Coulson

by BairnSidhe



Category: Beauty and the Beast (TV 2012), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF Phil Coulson, BAMF Vika Coulson, Death by a thousand forms, F/M, Gen, Never mess with the Red Tape Ninjas, Totally Deserved Threats, Underhanded moves, everyone is a BAMF Because Cahill Project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 18:04:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7184576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BairnSidhe/pseuds/BairnSidhe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Second Harlem Incident, Phil and Vika Coulson plot and execute a devious revenge.</p>
<p>Set shortly after Chapters 210-211 of The Grimm Truth in GalahadsGurl's Cahill Project series.  Will not make any sense without that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Form 319-A: Why one should never anger a Coulson

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GalahadsGurl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadsGurl/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Grimm Truth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/498313) by [GalahadsGurl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadsGurl/pseuds/GalahadsGurl). 



> Please note that The Cahill Project series belongs to GG, I'm just borrowing the sandbox she made. All mistakes are my own.

When Vika and Phil Coulson heard about The Second Harlem Incident, (fortunately, for the sanity and bodily safety of many, from a phone call from Nick Fury, not first hand) they both saw red.  Vika’s first instinct was to grab the decorative, sword shaped letter opener from her desk and mutter calculations on blood loss over time for a man of Ross’s age and body mass.  All the other handlers gave the pair a wide berth as Phil talked her out of direct revenge.

“He hurt _**moya sestra** , Fil_.  He pays for that.”

“Of course he does, Vika,” her husband placated, “I’m just saying he pays in a way he never sees coming or knows how to stop, and before you say it I don’t mean _Vdova_.  He’s a soldier, he knows physical pain, he can endure it.  Like Will, but not as smart, and he’s evil.  What does Will hate most?”

Vika’s smile spread slowly across her face, but unlike her happy lazy sunrise smiles, this was blood seeping across fabric, the steady growth of deadly intent held tight.  The grin on her face would have frightened any lesser man, but Phil knew she’d understood him.

“Agent Coulson,” she said, syrupy sweet in a way that often preceded some poor unfortunate being assigned to Director Fury.  “In the interests of inter-agency cooperation I think the Army may want to sign off on our procedures post-incident.  But we really shouldn’t take up the time of someone better off in the field.  You wouldn’t happen to know of anyone with the right clearances who’s on desk duty, would you?”

“I believe I do, Agent Coulson,” he said with the small placid smile that made anyone who knew him nervous.

The pair sat down at neighboring desks and started executing a plot of true deviousness.  Within ten minutes, half the paper-work for confiscating footage (both regular surveillance and camera-phone) had been flagged Urgent, Eyes Only, and forwarded to General Ross’s email.  In case he wasn’t near a computer, Phil had a baby agent courier over a laptop with built in wi-fi that could connect anywhere that had been donated by Jason Grimm, who’d been mid-fixing the annoying glitch that caused a crash/reboot cycle at random intervals when Phil explained his needs.  Half an hour later, the rest followed the laptop on hardcopy.  The junior agent sent to deliver it said Ross had developed a slight eye twitch, and added that he’d had to loan the General a pen, but he wasn’t sure if the one he’d handed over was the one that leaked if you held it too hard or not.  Vika gave him a beatific smile and thanked him for his thoughtfulness.

“How did you anticipate the General would need a pen?  Agents rarely carry them,” asked Phil.

“Well, he’s in a hospital, not his office, and he probably doesn’t carry one either, so I snagged one on my way out,” the Agent said.  “And I might not have been as cautious because rumor has it that Agent Petrovka’s also in there, and she’s my favorite handler.  No offence, Agent Coulson, but she’s the one who most often interrupts her assets training sessions and Gamble is terrifying.”

“Just Brian?”  Vika asked lightly.

“I know better than to talk about Romanova and Kuhn.  Will that be all?”

“No, dismissed, Agent Himelstein,” Phil said.  As he walked away the senior handler turned to his wife.  “Smart kid, putting those clues together, think we should suggest him for Specialist training?”

“Phht,” Vika dismissed the idea with a puff of blown air and a wave of her hand.  “Have you seen the way he eyes R and D?  Tech at the least, even if he isn’t inventor material.”

“I’ll send Jason an email.  What’s next on the list?”

“Budgetary allotments for repair.  Will hates budgetary paperwork, I’m sure General _Ublyudok_ will as well.”

“We already have most of that filled out,” Phil reminded her.  “Accounting took that part.”

“It all still needs to be signed.”

“I have an idea… have them send it up so I can take it, this needs a personal touch.” Phil typed furiously for a moment, hit a button with vicious satisfaction and let a page print.  Vika finished her request that Accounting send up the budget allotments for all Hulk-and-Abomination related damage and snagged the sheet from the printer as it hit the bottom margin line, mere seconds before Phil could grab it.

“Fil, _moy lyubimyy muzh_ , why did you type up a confession to aggravated assault and attempted murder?”

“It needs to be signed, same as all the other paperwork that’s coming up from Accounting.”  He grinned at her. “How often do most officers actually read every sheet in a three inch stack of budgetary release forms if they’ve been told it’s all been worked out and only needs the authorization?”

Vika rolled her eyes, “as far as I know only Will is that anal about…” she trailed off, then stood up and bent over Phil to kiss him soundly.  “You are a cruel, wicked man and I love you.”

“He messed with family.  Nobody messes with this family.  What’s more, he put our nieces in danger, and I want Yasha to have family his own age.”

Vika turned to receive the stack of papers and it was just as daunting as she’d imagined.  Holding it open in the middle, she let Phil slip that one honest forgery in the mass.

“I think I should personally explain it’s all been vetted as accurate, do you want me to grab some lunch on the way back?”

“If Abyssinia is still standing, I could really go for some doro wat.  We should try to help the local businesses however we can.”

“Ethiopian food shall be yours.  What say we also come up with some form for the residents of damaged residential blocks to get temporary housing paid for?”

“Sure, I’ll whip that up and send it the Army’s way, flagged for Ross.”

>>>

It would be a week before Ross fully understood that his sudden increase in paperwork had nothing to do with interagency cooperation, when he was released.  A lean, dark haired man in dress greens, who might have been handsome before he got the scars picked him up to drive him to his house outside the city.  General Ross tried to get him to let him drive himself, only to be met with firm resistance.

“Young man, I am a General, and I am ordering you to give me the keys.”

“Sir, all due respect, before I was Army I was a doctor and the only way you’re leaving so soon is that they had you on a selective non-operative management  program.  Which means you are under the influence of drugs with five syllable names, and I am _not_ letting you drive a jeep like that.”

“Do you know who I am?”  Ross puffed up in a show of indignant power. 

Keller looked him in the eye and said “Yes, Sir, General Ross.  I also know my orders come from someone who outranks you, and is scarier.”  Ross crumpled a bit and got in the car.  Keller walked him to his door and he was about to tell the man off when a hand reached out and yanked his free arm inside.  Keller stepped inside and closed the door.  An Amazonian blonde stood next to that mealy little paper-pusher who’d insisted he sign, date and initial 735 documents.  One arm held two folders, the other hung relaxed at her side, which is when Ross realized the paper-pusher had his wrist in an iron grip.

“General Ross, I’m Agent Phil Coulson.  This is my wife, Agent Viktoriya Coulson.  You met Dr. Keller.  We’re going to show you two files, and you are going to choose which one gets used.  Do you understand?”  His calm and even voice grated on Ross.  Keller’s solid body at his back was unbearable.

“So if I don’t do as you say the guard dog behind me rips out my throat?” he laughed grimly, trying to appear strong.

“No,” corrected Coulson.  “If you make my wife mad, the incredibly competent doctor behind you puts you back together, so we can try this again.  I wouldn’t advise making her mad, you have a very nice white carpet.”

“Option one,” the blonde said, holding open a folder with one hand so he could see it.  “Restraining orders against you for one Agent Marina Petrovka, one Dr. Betty Ross, and one Dr. Bruce Banner.  Go closer than 500 feet to them, contact them in any way or use your influence to threaten or harm any of them, and you will find yourself in a very cozy cell in a SuperMax for a year, with a probation officer and a firearms ownership ban waiting on the other end.”

He snarled at her and her nose wrinkled like she smelled something foul.

“Option two.”  She switched folders and let him read the typed confession to the assault of an unarmed pregnant woman with intent to kill, with his signature on the bottom, dated to the day he’d been shot by Peters’ lapdog.

“Bullshit, that’s a forgery.”

“Actually,” said the placid man, “that’s your signature.  And with that and the witnesses…. While New York might not have a death penalty, Agent Petrovka was handling several assets in a Continuing Criminal Enterprise case at the time you attacked her, which makes the attempted murder a Federal crime for which capital punishment may apply if we request it.  Also, there is no such thing as a statute of limitations on a crime like this concerning a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.”

“You may take the first folder and consider yourself served,” the woman said icily, “or you can try your luck with the laws you broke.  Pick quickly, I want to go home.”

With one last defiant snarl, Ross grabbed the first file with his one good hand, now released from the firm grip, and stormed off into his study.

“That went well,” Phil said.

“Don’t jinx it,” Vincent told him.

“We always have the second folder,” Vika reminded him, "that should come in useful if he pushes it." And the three left without leaving behind a trace.

**Author's Note:**

> (R) Moya sestra- My sister  
> (R) Fil- Phil  
> (R) Vdova- Widow, short for Black Widow, also known as Natasha  
> (R) Ublyudok- I'm told this is sort of untranslatable but kinda means bastard, but in a worse way.  
> (R) moy lyubimyy muzh- My beloved husband
> 
> Abyssinia is an Ethiopian restaurant in Harlem, doro wat is a chicken dish they are well known for.
> 
> Restraining orders generally do have these provisions, except the firearms ownership ban is normally an up-front part and usually only in cases of partner abuse. Given Ross has a history of using excessive fire power to endanger the lives and livelihoods of Betty and Bruce, I figured the Coulsons could get a judge to add an ownership ban to the penalties instead. As Ross is military, this would be worse for him than your average abuser. Not being able to own a gun could end his career as a General. Also violating a restraining order that was enforced could net him a Dishonorable. The Coulsons hit him with the big guns right where it hurts.


End file.
